


Blue 42

by swarls



Series: I Like You [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Blow Jobs, Derek and Stiles are the Same Age, Enemies to Lovers, Football, Hate Sex, M/M, Minor Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:55:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3678369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swarls/pseuds/swarls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek are on opposing teams for the championship game. Locker room sexy times ensue after one of them loses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue 42

**Author's Note:**

> So I know absolutely nothing about lacrosse, so that's why I decided to do this with football instead. I've never written porn before, so don't judge me too harshly. Also I didn't know whether to rate this Mature or Explicit, so I thought rating up was always better than rating down. Kudos and comments are always appreciated!

Finstock was giving them their usual speech before the game. Stiles wasn’t really listening, just fuming where he stood, bouncing on the balls of his feet. This was the most important game of the year, the championship game against their rivals, the fucking Beacon Valley Wolverines.

It had been an excruciating year for Beacon Hills High and the team had worked their asses off to get here. Stiles would be damned if he let those rich assholes from the town over have this championship.

And not only that, but one of those assholes in particular really made Stiles riled up, anxious to get out there and pummel his ass to the ground. Or rather, run away from him and score a touchdown on him, because as wide receiver, Stiles wouldn’t be tackling anyone really, he’d _be_ tackled if he weren’t fast enough. But Stiles damn sure would _make himself_ fast enough to get away from Douchebag Hale.

Cheering erupted around him, breaking him out of his mental trance, and he jumped up and down and yelled their fight song along with the rest of the team before walking down the dimly lit hallway of the school to walk to the field where the cheerleaders were holding up a large banner for them to run through. Being a senior on the team, and one of the star players, Stiles was among the first to run through, along with Scott, their quarterback and captain, and Boyd, the center.

Scott chose him earlier that day to go with him to the coin toss, where he was met with Jackass Whittemore, sneering and smirking somehow simultaneously, and Douchebag Hale, who was ginning smugly at him. Stiles’ grip on his helmet tightened and his eyes never left Hale’s when the coin was flipped. Scott won the coin toss and they opted to receive first.

“Good luck out there, Bambi.” Hale said and winked.

Before Stiles could say anything, Scott put a hand on his shoulder and turned him away saying, “Save it for the field.”

“I really fucking hate that guy.” His teeth were clenched and his knuckles were white around the bars of his facemask.

“I know, buddy. But you’re twice the player that asshole is. You just gotta prove it, like I know you will.” Stiles smiled at his best friend. It was such a small thing to say, but it still gave Stiles a confidence boost, and it was exactly why Scott was the captain of the team and not Stiles.

Stiles bumped his shoulder with Scott’s in gratitude before shouting, “Let’s kick some B-Valley ass!” to which the team cheered and the coach rolled his eyes.

Once the game started, Stiles let everything fall away. He focused solely on how well they were playing, what the opposing team’s weaknesses were, and how to exploit them.

He also was constantly aware of Hale’s presence on the field. Because Hale was a defensive back, he was almost always covering Stiles, as it was his primary goal to cover Stiles so he wasn’t open for a pass, or tackle him if he did end up with the ball.

Their first play was simple; Scott was to pass to Liam, a tight end because he was up against the most inexperienced player on the opposing team who wasn’t known for being the fastest or smartest. Stiles was supposed to fake right and get open as quickly as possible in case Liam didn’t get open, which was exactly what happened. So Stiles was thrown the ball. Right when it hit his hands, he tucked it into his body, turned, and ran. He saw Hale a few feet away, running towards him and juked him, making it a few more yards before another player tackled him. They got the first down.

When they lined up again, Stiles caught Hale’s eye and winked at him. For the first time since Stiles had ever known Hale, he looked murderous, which only made Stiles smirk widen.

Then they were off with a running play, so Stiles helped block some defense players from Greenburg, who was running up field faster than Stiles had ever seen him move in his life. It probably had something to do with the giant dude running after him more than anything, but it didn’t matter because they got another sixteen yards before Greenburg went down. Stiles cheered on his teammate when they went back into their huddle.

“Nice, Greenburg!” Scott said. “Alright, this next play I want to hand it off to Liam and run the Blue 42. Stiles, post right. Let’s see if you can shake Hale and get a touchdown. You got this, buddy.”

“Damn straight.”

“Alright, everybody know their positions?” After everyone nodded he said, “Ready?”

Everyone clapped their hands and said together, “Break!” and they lined up in their positions.

Stiles felt a fluttering in his stomach. He always got slightly nervous when the play was his for the first time in a game. It always set his mood for the rest of the game, whether he would feel confident in himself, or if he would feel like it was an off game. Only once this entire season had he played badly during a game, and that was only because it was the anniversary of his mother’s death. He’d been pulled from the game at halftime because he was so distracted. His dad had come onto the sidelines and stayed with him the whole rest of the game, his arm across his shoulder. He said, “Your mother would be so proud of you, son.” And that was all it took for him to break down and cry. His team, especially Scott, had consoled him throughout the game as he cheered them on to the win. He was sad that he couldn’t help them get the W, but he knew it was better that he sit out and not risk the team with a loss when all he could think about was his mother. Now though, all he could think about was leaving Hale in the dust when he got that pigskin in his hands.

When the play started, Stiles ran his fifteen yards before cutting right and making himself open for the pass. The ball easily fell into his hands and he turned to run, but was met with a brick wall instead. Or rather a person that tackled him to the ground right where he stood. His breath was knocked out of him, but he held onto the ball, so that was all that mattered at that moment.

When he looked up, he was met with a stupid, smug smile and eyes that were too pretty to be on such a smarmy douchebag. “Nice try, Bambi. Next time try not to be too obvious that the ball’s coming to you though.” He grinned widely before getting up.

“At least make that weak trash rhyme.” Stiles replied, getting up and tossing the ref the ball. He grinned at Hale as he walked over to the huddle.

“Nice catch, bro.”  
“Give me the ball again. We’ve only got twenty more yards for the touchdown. Please, Scotty, I need to get past this dickbag.”

Scott looked around at the rest of the team, who nodded. “Alright, we’ll run the double dooky.”

“God, why did we let you come up with the names?” he said grinning. He put his helmet on and the team broke. At the line, he clenched his fists and took a deep breath while Scott made sure everyone was in position. He ran behind him to the opposite side where Liam was as the play was called into action and booked it towards the end zone. When he turned, he saw the ball coming towards him. It was a little high so he had to jump to catch it. When he landed, he was tackled, but luckily it was towards the goal line and he reached out his hand to get the ball across the goal line and into the end zone for the touchdown.

When he heard the crowd cheer he knew he did it. He heard cursing from on top of him and he turned onto his back to look up at Hale with murderous brows and a deep scowl. Boyd pulled him up to his feet and they butted helmets. He and Scott jumped into the air and slammed into each other.

When he turned, he called out, “Hey Hale!” When he looked over his shoulder, he said, “Was I too obvious that time, or do you need me to get your glasses from your mother?” When Hale's scowl deepened, Stiles laughed and ran off the field with Scott.

The rest of the game went on like that. He and Hale were paired up pretty much the entire game. When Stiles got the ball, he was always there to try to stop him. And Stiles had to admit (only to himself, and only reluctantly because it was the fourth time in a row he had been tackled without making it more than a few yards before going down), he was good. Great, even. Not that he’d ever, _ever_ say any of that to anyone aloud. Ever.

He was also really good at smack talk and one liners, and Stiles would have been laughing if those words weren’t directed at him after, annoyingly, being tackled when he should’ve gotten at least the first down. He even made one rhyme, which Stiles secretly found really fucking awesome and he was definitely stealing it in future games. But mostly, he just wanted to punch him. Really hard.

It was getting down to the wire and Beacon Hills was up a field goal, but Beacon Valley had the ball and they were scarily close to the end zone. Stiles’ anxiety was so high he thought he might throw up. He couldn’t do anything but cheer on his teammates and pray that they’d keep the other team away from getting the winning touchdown.

He was chewing on his glove as the final play was made. The ball was in the air and soaring towards the open tight end and Stiles saw his entire world in slow motion. He grabbed onto Scott’s shoulder pad in anticipation as the ball touched the player’s hands. But then Danny was right behind him and when he tackled the tight end, the ball slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground.

Suddenly the entire team was jumping and yelling and rushing onto the field as the final seconds on the timer ran out.

They did it. They won! Stiles jumped onto Danny’s back and slapped his hand on his helmet as he cheered with his team. When Danny took off his helmet he was enveloped by the entire team and brought up on a few people’s shoulders.

He eventually found his dad and Scott’s mom and hugged them both. His dad had tears in his eyes and told Stiles how proud he was. Melissa kissed his cheek before going to find her own son with Kira on her heels.

As they all settled down, they lined up to shake hands with Beacon Valley. Stiles got a couple of dirty looks, but mostly the opposing team was amiable, which was really surprising because if he was on the opposite side he’d be a dick about losing. Jackson barely touched his hand before moving on to Boyd who was in line behind him, not saying anything. He just had a deep frown on his face and looked like he wanted to seriously maim someone. Another kid held his hand a little too long and said, “Good game, Stilinski,” with a wink before moving on. Boyd huffed out a laugh at Stiles, whose face started to turn red.

When he got to Hale he reached out his hand to shake and say good game, but got skipped over altogether. Stiles rolled his eyes and muttered, “Sore fucking loser.” He didn’t take it personally. The guy was obviously pissed that he got outplayed and that made Stiles feel kind of good, honestly.

The team made plans to go to the diner for celebratory milkshakes and curly fries after that. He took an extra long shower to soothe his sore legs and once the showers were empty stretched a little and massaged his thighs. He had never run harder before, and he knew he was probably going to be sore tomorrow, but it was worth it.

When he got to his locker, the place had emptied and Stiles sang softly to himself as he put on deodorant. He heard the door opening and figured someone forgot their cleats or something, so he paid no attention to them. Instead he pulled on his boxers and rummaged around his bag for his clean clothes.

“You are such a little shit, you know that, Bambi?”

Stiles stood up straight, his heart in his throat. He turned slowly to see Hale standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyebrows knitted together and his jaw clenched. Stiles couldn’t help but notice how tight his shirt was and how stupidly muscular he looked. And god, his jeans were practically painted on. How did he not see how stupidly hot this asshole was? _Oh right,_ he told himself. He mentally high fived himself for not being distracted by Hale’s oh so obvious good looks while in the middle of the game because otherwise they most definitely would’ve lost. Jesus, he had _that body_ on top of him earlier.

“Are you here to beat me up for outrunning your ass tonight? Cause I gotta say, that’s really not how I wanted my night to end.”

“And how did you want your night to end?” Hale started moving towards him slowly as if he were stalking prey. Stiles couldn’t help but feel a little bit afraid, but there was no way he was going to show it. Hale was much bigger than him and even though Stiles could run faster, it would be a matter of getting out of here to be able to do so that he was worried about.

Stiles checks for the easiest route to the exit while he replies. “Honestly I really just wanted to celebrate and eat my weight in curly fries while sipping on a chocolate shake.” Hale hummed noncommittally and was almost to Stiles, so Stiles tried inching away. “Nothing better in the world, you know?”

“I can think of a few things that are better.” Hale put his hand on the locker beside Stiles’ head and Stiles tried to move away to the other side, but Hale's other hand just landed on the locker beside his shoulder.

Stiles’ breathing was becoming more rapid. He had seen some shitty porn that started a little bit like this, but there was no way in hell that was actually happening right now, right? Right? When he looked up, Hale was watching his mouth. He licked his lips instinctually and Hale tracked the movement. “Do you always talk up a big game and not deliver, or is that just on the field?”

Hale let out what Stiles could only describe as a growl before crashing his lips against Stiles’ and that was all it took for Stiles to drop his clothes and fist his hands in Hale’s shirt. Hale’s hands went to Stiles’ waist and pushed him against the lockers.

Stiles gasped at the impact and Hale took the opportunity to attack his mouth with his tongue. Stiles moaned at the contact and moved his hands to run through Hale’s hair, which was surprisingly soft. He pulled and tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

Stiles spread his legs when he felt Hale’s hard on through his jeans pressing against his hip. “Fuck,” he breathed. His own erection was painful and he rocked his hips against Hale’s leg that he slotted between his legs. Stiles tilted his head back to catch his breath and Hale attached his lips to Stiles’ neck to start kissing and biting down it. “Off. Get these the fuck off, right now.”

“So bossy.” Stiles dick twitched at how wrecked Hale already sounded and he _really_ wanted to hear that some more.

“God I hate you so much, you fucking asshole.” Hale chuckled before Stiles pushed him away and unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down to his knees before getting a hand in his dark green boxer briefs.

Hale hissed and bit down on Stiles’ neck. “Fuck, Stilinski.” He breathed against Stiles’ collarbone and began sucking a mark there as Stiles worked on jerking him quickly. “Your mouth. I want your mouth.”

“Fuck. Yeah, okay.” Stiles dropped to his knees and pulled his jeans the rest of the way down before doing the same to his boxers. “God damn.” Hale was packing. And uncut. And Stiles might be a little bit in love with this man’s dick.

He didn’t tease Hale, just took him down all the way to the base, swallowing a few times. Hale cursed breathlessly above him and Stiles hummed in response. He had learned a few tricks with Danny during the two months they dated junior year, then even more once he turned 18 and went to Jungle and met Heath. Stiles was really good at sucking cock.

He spent a while making sweet, sweet love to Hale’s cock making sure to pay extra attention to his head and foreskin, occasionally sucking him down all the way to not over sensitize his head. He occasionally licked and sucked at his balls or massaged them with his hands otherwise. His own cock was so hard it was painful and he had to pull himself out of his briefs and jerk himself off for relief.

After a few minutes he stopped fucking around and sucked him down again. He bobbed his head quickly and made sure to massage his tongue over the vein on the underside of his cock and hummed and swallowed around it when it hit the back of his throat. Hale was making little noises and moaning his name and pulled his hair when it was really good and Stiles had never felt more turned on in his life. He could probably come just from this alone.

“Stilinski, I—“ He tried pulling him off, but Stiles put his free hand on Hale’s ass—Christ, his ass was firm, perfect for fucking—and held him there. Then Hale was coming down Stiles’ throat, and he just swallowed it all down. He pulled off with an obscene ‘pop’ before he sat back on his heels and licked his lips. “Fuck.”

“I know,” he smiled smugly.

Hale rolled his eyes, but seemed too sated to respond with a comeback. Instead he looked pointedly at Stiles, still slowly stroking his hard dick and raised an eyebrow. “Want me to reciprocate?”

Stiles nodded. “I’m not going to last long, though.” Hale pulled him up and pushed him against the lockers before dropping to his knees. He held Stiles by his hips as he licked the head of Stiles’ cock. He licked a wet stripe up from his balls to the tip before swallowing him down, not quite to the base. “Shit. Yeah, just like that” It only took a few strokes for Stiles to tug on Hale’s hair and warn him. “I’m gunna come, Hale.” Stiles was pushed back into the lockers and Hale continued to suck him off until he unloaded into his mouth. He couldn’t take it all, so a little got onto his face and chin. As Stiles sagged onto the wall of lockers, Hale just wiped up the few streaks of come and sucked it of his fingers. “God damn, that was hot.” Stiles slid down the locker when his knees gave out and Hale pressed his mouth against Stiles’ in a bitter kiss; he could taste both of them on his tongue.

When they both pulled back for air they stayed close, panting into each other’s  open mouths. Hale was the first to get up and pull up his briefs and jeans, then offered a hand up to Stiles, who took it gratefully. He quickly pulled on some grey jeans and a white t-shirt as well as a plaid shirt over the top.

“Good game tonight,” Hale said. Stiles turned around and noticed his cheeks were tinted a lovely shade of pink. He decided he thought it was adorable and definitely liked it.

“You, too, Hale.” Stiles threw his dirty uniform into his bag and threw it over his shoulder.

“Derek.”

Stiles looked confused for a second before remembering that Douchebag wasn’t _actually_ his first name. “Right. Stiles.” He held out his hand for Derek to shake, but instead Derek grabbed it and pulled him into his chest and kissed him, this time a little softer, slower.

“You drive me crazy.” Stiles opened his eyes to see Derek’s eyebrows furrowed and angry-looking.

“I drive just about everyone crazy. It’s kind of what I do.” Derek huffed a small laugh. “You wanna get out of here?” he asked.

Derek nodded and lightly kissed him before linking their fingers and leading the way out of the locker room.

They never made it to the diner for curly fries.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr!](carryonmywayward-castiel.tumblr.com)  
> Also, I quoted Robin Fishbein when Stiles said, "At least make that weak trash rhyme."  
> I'm terrible with smack talk, so I had to look shit up, and that was what made me laugh the most because it's actually kinda hard to find good smack talk that isn't really offensive.  
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed!


End file.
